


time to readdress

by azazelsocks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel as God, M/M, Past Lucifer/Sam Winchester, Sexual Coercion, sam trades godstiel sexual favors for the opportunity to see dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 08:14:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13677777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azazelsocks/pseuds/azazelsocks
Summary: Sam made a deal for Dean's life in that warehouse. He hasn't seen his brother since.





	time to readdress

Sam folded to his knees next to Castiel's throne without being prompted, placing his hands on his thighs and lowering his head. He heard the angel presenting its problems to Castiel falter in its speech, distracted by Sam, but it quickly regained its rhythm.

Sam didn't know what it was talking about. He was busy tuning it out as much as possible, keeping his breathing deep and steady. He knew he didn’t need to breathe in Heaven, but it was comforting to do so anyways. Also, his chest was knotting horribly in panic, and if he didn't calm himself down, he was going to end up bolting.

Five angels came and went, and Sam had mostly steadied himself by then. He needed to see Dean, to codedly pass Dean the information he'd gleaned from Heaven’s libraries, to know for his own sanity that there was even a chance that Dean could pull him out if it turned out there was no way to get through to Cas, but really he just—needed to talk to his brother again.

For that, he could do anything.

At last the flow of petitioners stopped, and silence reigned. Sam peeked through his hair to see that the hall was emptying itself out. The light through the windows had changed, too, becoming a deeper sunset gold. There was a further pause as the hall settled into the dormancy of a building after hours, and then Castiel spoke. “What are you doing, Sam?”

“I want to make a request,” Sam said, mostly to the floor because his heart was starting to jack-rabbit again, and he didn't think he could look at Castiel right then.

“Come here,” Castiel said.

Swallowing hard and trying to ignore the knife stab of panic under his ribs, Sam got up and came to stand in front of Castiel.

“Closer,” Castiel said, and Sam obeyed, until he was nearly between Castiel's knees, and that was not helping the panic response. Castiel tilted his head, curious, and that was Sam's cue.

Sam took a deep breath, and managed to dredge up the fortitude to speak steadily. Maybe if he was persuasive enough, he wouldn't have to resort to what he thought he would. “I want to see Dean,” he said.

Castiel frowned. “No.”

“It doesn't have to be a meeting,” Sam said. “I could just—if I could just talk to him—” Castiel’s frown deepened, refusal clearly imminent. Desperation entered Sam's voice. “Please, I just want to talk to him, you can listen in, whatever. It's been over a month. He’s got to be worried sick—”

“It has been less than a week on Earth,” Castiel informed him.

Sam swallowed again. “It’s Dean. He’s worried. But even if he isn’t, I miss him.”

Castiel’s expression didn't change, and Sam sensed he was maybe seconds away from being dismissed from Castiel’s presence entirely. Last chance.

Throat working, Sam knelt—carefully, with as much grace as he could manage—and leaned forward, resting his cheek against Castiel’s knee. He couldn't bring himself to move any closer, yet. “Please, Cas,” he whispered.

Castiel looked genuinely shocked by the offer. That didn’t worry Sam; he knew Castiel wanted this. He had dictated the terms of their contract to demand everything from Sam, and even though he only did it when he thought Sam wasn’t looking, Sam had caught him staring. Castiel had done nothing about it thus far, and now it was the only thing Sam had to bargain with that Castiel hadn’t just taken.

Sure enough, Castiel fisted Sam’s hair behind his head, and tugged, forcing Sam to look up. “This is what you're willing to offer to talk to your brother?”

“Yes,” Sam said, almost a croak. “Yes,” he repeated, a little clearer.

Eyebrows raised, Castiel opened his pants and gently pulled Sam forward by his hair. Somehow, Sam knew that if he tried to pull away, Cas would let him—this was a test as much as it was a bargain. He wasn’t actually going to force Sam, which might have been easier.

Sam kind of felt like crying.

But he was already here, kneeling between Cas’ legs. Too late to regret it, even though he did. The head of Cas’ cock brushed against Sam’s lips.

It wasn’t like he hadn't been fucked by angels before. He could deal.

Sam closed his eyes and opened his mouth, let Cas feed his cock past where Sam’s gag reflex used to be, before Michael and Lucifer. Sucked and licked and swallowed mechanically, like his mouth wasn't attached to him—it didn't matter, none of it was real, neither of them were flesh here, not really, and Sam's body was somewhere it couldn't be touched. Let Cas fuck his mouth, and, eventually, let Cas fist his hair hard enough to make Sam to cry out, let Cas wedge his cock down Sam’s throat, let Cas come like that, deep enough that Sam had to swallow.

Afterwards, Sam stayed kneeling. His entire mouth tasted like Cas, and he wanted to throw up. Cas couldn't say no now. He couldn't.

Castiel re-fastened his pants and regarded Sam without expression for a very long moment, until Sam felt tears heating the corners of his eyes.

“You may contact your brother,” Castiel said at last.

Sam didn’t collapse with relief, but only because he was already leaning on Cas’ thigh for support.

“Some time is required to find the required materials,” Castiel continued. “I’ll come to your rooms when it is ready. I will be present for the conversation,” he warned.

Sam had known that would be one of the terms. It did not dampen his relief at his success. “That’s fine,” he croaked, and cleared his throat. “That's fine. Thank you, Cas. I’m grateful.”

Castiel smiled, fingers carding through Sam's hair. “As you should be,” he said, and it took an enormous force of effort not to break eye contact at that. “Go back to your Heaven, Sam.”

Sam got slowly to his feet and descended the stairs leading from the throne. All of the doors would go back to his Heaven, or wherever else he wanted them to, as all doors in Heaven worked, and he pushed through them more forcefully than he’d meant to.

They led him into a memory of Bobby’s tiny upstairs bathroom, the one he’d never bothered very hard to clean since no one but Sam and Dean used it, and only on the rare occasions they were staying over; familiar yellow lines ringed all the porcelain and the linoleum curled against the walls. Sam stumbled one step farther after closing the door and then bent over the sink, gagging miserably. He stood there until the urge to vomit passed, supported by his elbows on the rim of the sink, forehead pressed to the mirror.

Lucifer had waited for dubiously-gained consent the first time too, and after that never asked before taking again. He hoped it wasn’t going to be like that with Castiel, but it could be. Crossing that line of his own volition might mean he’d be paying for ten minutes with Dean on the phone with his body for the rest of eternity.

His breathing got harder, starting to sound a lot like sobbing, though there were no tears yet. Sam sucked in a long, shuddering breath, forcing himself back to composure. He drank from the faucet, doing his best to rinse his mouth out, then dug into the cabinet for a toothbrush. He brushed roughly, scrubbing his tongue until it began to bleed sluggishly. For a moment, the pain overcame the sense memory of Cas’ cock lingering in his mouth, and then it returned.

He stuck his tongue out at the mirror and looked at the raw red spots.

It was worth it. That, and whatever came next. It had to be. He was going to get to talk to Dean, and that was all that mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> this was part of a much longer (still wip) piece, but this particular scene got jossed, by me, which was unfortunate becos i like it. so i gave it some feet so it could stand by itself. 
> 
> EDIT 09/25/2018: [the mentioned WIP, previously unpublished, is now on AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14763662)


End file.
